The Knight, Death, and the Devil

Chapter 22: The Devil You Know

They emerged from the warp tunnel into what might as well have been the end of the world. Imperial and Republic starships sat on either side of a massive space station, their formations broken as they desperately battled the combined forces of Malgus' battle station, Andar's stealth fleet, and the rest of the naval power that Malgus' 'New Empire' had managed to summon for the trap he had lain. A rainbow of laser fire streaked across empty space as the Republic and Empire struggled to fight off the invisible armada swarming their fleets and wreaking havoc on their battle lines.

"Out of the frying pan, huh?" Maliss directed the ship downwards, away from the tear in space and the swarm of stealth fighters engaging their cloaks as they flew towards the massive battle. "No one's jumping out of here," she said as she tapped on the console display in front of her.

"We already knew that," Vathamma said.

"No, I mean no one is jumping." The mercenary tapped the display again for emphasis. "According to this, we're sitting smack in the middle of a moon. Anything trying to use the usual hyperspace routes to or from here is going to wind up lost, or shredded to pieces by the jump."

"Now we know the other purpose of that ship," the Sith said. "It's not just a gateway—he's used it and the Mass Shadow Generator to lock down the entire system."

"What are you saying?" Torin said, looking out at the two fleets and the battle station between them. "They can't even get reinforcements?"

"I'm saying this is it." She gestured out into space. "Until that generator goes down, those navies are fighting it out with Malgus' fleets. No retreat, and no backup."

He swallowed the lump in his throat and watched as explosions rocked an Imperial carrier, a few fighters fleeing the bay as flames flared out and the force fields running alongside it dropped. They had come ready to siege Darth Malgus's' space station, a well-armed structure with few naval forces in jump range. The Empire and Republic couldn't have expected to encounter an armada of stealth ships flung from halfway across the galaxy.

"We need to get aboard his ship," Torin said.

"Andar's?" Maliss looked back at him. "We can't even see it."

"I sensed the generator once—I can do it again."

Their pilot stood up from her seat and yielded the controls to him. "Have at it."

He undid his harness and moved to the captain's chair. With a deep breath in he closed his eyes and wrapped his hands around the steering column as he aligned their ship with that of Lord Andar's vessel. It wasn't sight, and it wasn't quite feeling. It was a new sensation, a sixth sense that beckoned him forward like a siren song. The ship flew out into space, away from the fleets and away from the station. His companions sat silently behind him, scanning the empty vastness ahead of them.

Torin jerked violently forward in his seat, his harness pulling tight against his chest as their ship buried itself in the side of Andar's own. The Mandalorian craft kept moving through the capital ship like an arrow, piercing wall after wall before coming to rest at a slight downward angle. He opened his eyes to see a mangled hallway directly outside the cockpit window, steam pouring from broken piping in the ceiling above them while bits of metal paneling fell from the crumpled wall their ship's nose had been stopped by.

Behind him, Maliss unbuckled her seat and knelt on the floor to open one of the escape hatches. All four hopped out, and Vathamma ran over to one of the wall-mounted computers. The wail of sirens filled the halls, a warning that they were about to feel the full might of the ship's internal security measures.

"The bridge is this way." She pointed to their right. "Lord Andar and the means to control his armada will be there."

Maliss pointed the other direction. "You have fun with that, I'm going for the relics room. He has something of mine, and I mean to get it back."